[ It's so many kinds of inappropriate. But appropriate means nothing more than reserved friendship, and cold nights alone in their offices or quarters, and figureheads of a failing organization frozen into images of themselves. She's tired of it. And after their years of struggle, don't they deserve to be a little inappropriate, if they want?

She takes her time with the kiss till she's satisfied, luxuriating in the way he lets her lead. Pulling away, she catches his hands in her own -- smaller, but equally calloused -- and looks him up and down, a long purposeful glance. ]

I'm thinking about how I want you tonight. [ she breathes, then makes a considering noise in her throat. ]

Shall I let you come? Or leave you wanting? Let you have the use of your voice, or order you to be quiet? You've been doing an awful lot of talking lately.